Whose Idea Was it Anyway?
by snowflake-shona
Summary: One Shot. Jack and Angela are put to work looking through files for a case, though they can't see the point. Little do they know that there isn't one!


**Title**: Whose Idea was it Anyway?

**Author:** Snowflake Shona

**Work Count**: 777

* * *

It was late. Most of the employees had gone home. The lab was therefore usually quiet, except for two people sitting upstairs, on the comfy sofa opposite each other, talking. Two open files were spread across the coffee table between them. The photographs and x-rays underneath the report written by another forensic anthropologist. Jack and Angela were sitting, with their cups of coffee, reviewing the cases.

"Tell me again why Tempe asked us to look at this?" Angela said flicking through one of the reports, not really reading any of it.

"Booth seems to think that the case is related to a recent murder, so we have to check for similarities," Jack explained.

"I get that. Why did she ask _us _to do it?"

"She and Booth got called to a crime scene,"

"Leaving us with the work. Nice." Angela complained. Jack smiled. Not that he was going to complain. It meant he got to spend some alone time with Angela. He took a sip of his hot coffee, and for some reason it didn't feel right. He looked at the mug and realised he wasn't in the mood for coffee.

"You know what we need?" Jack said, still staring at his mug.

"Alcohol," Angela said offhandedly.

"Exactly," Jack agreed, getting up and walking over to the little kitchenette and poured the coffee down the sink. He looked in the little fridge and found a bottle of red wine. He held it up for Angela to see.

"Perfect!" She smiled, and got up to rid herself of her coffee. Jack filled two glasses with the red liquid and handed one to Angela. "Now, this is more like it!" she happily said taking a sip. They sat back down again with the files in front of them. Jack was trying his best to concentrate on the files, and _not _Angela, but it was a losing battle. Angela had other things on her mind.

"I could have had a hot date tonight," Angela continued to complain.

"Did you?" Jack asked, trying to sound only vaguely interested, but failing miserably.

"Well… no, but that's not the point. This couldn't wait until morning?" Angela said picking up the other report off the table.

"Booth said it was urgent, and then the good doc said it had to be done tonight. I agree with you though, these cases aren't going anywhere," Jack agreed.

"And look at this," she said getting up and sitting next to Jack. Close. "In this case, the one that happened three years ago, he was shot in the back of the head, while this newer one, Tempe thinks it was a tyre iron."

"And," Jack said taking the file off Angela, "they were found in completely different locations. This one was found in the river, while this one in an abandoned warehouse."

"I thought murderers were creatures of habit?" Angela said.

"They are," Jack said, leaning back into the sofa and putting his arm across the back of the seat and behind Angela. "They have a certain way of killing and disguising the body."

"So can we say that there are no similarities and go home?"

"Not quite. A clever murder would know that, and try to disguise the murder by doing things differently each time. Look at this, each body was stripped, and there appear to be marks on both wrists, possibly from handcuffs. That's similar."

"So the guy has a fetish with handcuffs," Angela suggested.

"Who doesn't?" Jack said, giving Angela a little wink. She laughed.

"Why doesn't that surprise me," she said still laughing.

"Well, I don't hear your disagreeing with me," Jack teased. Angela pretended to be shocked and gently hit Jack on the arm, after which he pretended to cower in fear, making Angela laugh even more.

They were not alone now though. Two people had quietly entered and were watching the exchange from below.

"I knew it would work," Booth whispered proudly.

"It was my idea!" Bones hissed whacking him on the arm, but unlike Angela it was anything by gentle.

"Ow! It was my bottle of wine," Booth argued.

"Whose idea was it to put it in the fridge?"

"It doesn't matter whose idea it was, just as long as they don't find out we were trying to set them up," he whispered rubbing his battered arm.

"Yeah, they'll be annoyed they stayed back so late with a file that is completely made up," Bones murmured.

"Come on, I'll buy you dinner," Booth said pulling on her arm.

"Sid's?"

"Where else do we go?" Booth smiled as he escorted Bones from the building, leaving the two upstairs to enjoy their evening.


End file.
